


What Could Have Been

by thequeenmeera



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Smut, because robb probably would have ended up marrying meera, what could have happened if things hadn't gone south, wow i actually wrote smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenmeera/pseuds/thequeenmeera
Summary: In a universe in which Ned never goes to King’s Landing and the whole Southron mess doesn’t bother the North Robb Stark has come of age and his parents have arranged a marriage for him





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> So instead of working on my WIP or doing some readings I instead wound up writing this on the fly!

The walls of Winterfell were high, so high that Meera could see them from miles away. Over hills and through woods. The great castle looked rather small from their vantage point on the high hill. It was too far away for her to see even the people milling about though she did think she could make out the smoke rising from the many fires and hot springs. Her father had told her about the hot springs and she wondered if they really were so hot. The miniature castle was nestled against the deep green of the Wolfswood. _This is to be my home now_ , she thought. It was a strange thought and her heart squeezed at the thought. Greywater was her home though it was not supposed to be anymore.

She thought about Robb Stark again, her husband to be. Her father had not seen him since he was an infant, barely older than herself, and so all he had been able to say was that as a babe Robb Stark had had his mother’s auburn hair and dark blue eyes and was greedy about eating. _Is he tall? Is he handsome? Will he be gentle with me? Am I too small to bear children? Will his lady mother take one look at me and send me away in favor of some bigger woman who’s less likely to die in the birthing bed?_ She would not blame anyone so much for doing that. Meera had no intention of dying until she was good and old. Her anxieties hovered near her for the rest of the ride to the great castle though.

Jojen had to say her name several times before she heard him. There were people gathered all around the road, watching the procession of crannogmen and the Stark guards who had ridden to meet them weeks before. “Are you alright?” Jojen asked a fifth time. She nodded distractedly, her eyes drawn by the crowds. “They’re here to see you,” Jojen told her without needing to hear her question. The Winter’s Town was full to bursting and more and more people lined the road as they neared the gates. They were talking and shouting and cheering, excited to see their future lord’s bride.

With the gatehouse looming just ahead Meera felt another burst of anxiety. Was she dressed well enough? Her sheepskin leggings and bronze scale shirt had been good enough for the road and she’d thought she looked well enough when she’d dressed that morning. She’d even washed herself as best she could with a damp rag so she wouldn’t smell and her hair was pulled back in a tight not at the back of her head. Her father and brother hadn’t said anything about her appearance. They wouldn’t have thought of it, like as not. But the Starks may have more to say on the subject. There was nothing she could do about the way she looked now though so she braced herself and tried to control her face so she looked less nervous.

The castle yard was large, so much larger than the yard of Castle Cerwyn and that of the holdfasts they’d stayed in on their long trek north. The yard, like the streets of the Winterstown was filled with people, only they were lined up in an orderly fashion and they weren’t shouting and cheering. Meera guided her horse to follow her father’s. They came to a halt and a man she didn’t know, a groom she thought, approached to lift her from her horse and set her on her feet in the mud. Her father guided her and Jojen out of the crowd and over to the people gathered near an ornate set of doors. Her father bowed to the tall man who Meera guessed must be Lord Stark and she and Jojen followed his lead. She wondered if they ought to kneel but the yard was muddy and she was sure she looked bad enough without getting her breeches muddy and there was no point kneeling if her father wasn’t. “My Lord,” her father began, “may I present my son Jojen and my daughter Meera.” The family smiled down at Meera and her brother.

“Well met my lord, my lady” Lord Stark said, nodding to them.

“Well met my Lord,” Meera answered. Her tongue felt like lead and her heart was pounding. She stared at the lord’s chest and didn’t dare glance at his lady wife or his children. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see her fate.

She was not to be so lucky though, Lord Stark gestured over a young man – rather tall though shorter than his father with auburn hair that grew in loose curls that Meera decided were overlong. His eyes were a deep blue and his smile was wide. Meera’s heart skipped a beat. “My eldest son, Robb.”

Meera’s breath caught in her throat and she could not recall what she was supposed to say to him. “W-we-uh” she stumbled. Robb’s smile grew so wide she wondered why his face did not crack open.

“My lady,” he said at last punctuated with a sweeping bow. The remainder of the Starks were paraded past. Lady Stark’s smile was kind and she squeezed Meera’s hands, saying something about daughters which Meera did not truly hear. The red-haired daughter talked a great deal about the wedding preparations before her parents herded her along, the younger daughter and the second son – Bran, she actually caught his name – were anxious to ask her about Greywater and the Neck. “Is it true ravens can’t be sent there?” Bran was asking her eagerly before his mother took him by the shoulders and guided him away. The youngest lisped and mumbled his greeting but he smiled back at Meera when she said hello. The bastard was last in the line; he looked strikingly like his father unlike Robb and was even more reticent. He seemed sullen and did not return Meera’s smile.

Lady Stark showed Meera to her room herself, her daughters trailing behind them. The room was larger than even the Lord’s chamber at Greywater and the bed was feather filled. Meera stood aimlessly in the doorway, looking around at the heavy wall hangings, the several windows, the huge fireplace with its carved mantle. She was supposed to sleep there? “What do your wedding clothes look like, my lady?” the red-haired daughter asked Meera, startling her from her reverie. Meera had clothes and for some reason she could not quite understand now she had thought that her own clothes would suffice. She did not think so now.

“Sansa!” Lady Stark chided, but she turned back to Meera “I expect you don’t have proper wedding clothes?” When Meera nodded, turning pink with shame, the lady took her in hand, “We can get your measurements down now if that suits you.”

“Yes, my lady. Thank you” Meera said, relief flooding through her.

She was led out of the overlarge room, down halls, and through doors. _I’ll never find my way through this place_ , Meera thought hopelessly. Greywater was small and she understood the place and the Neck. She did not understand Winterfell.

Lady Stark talked while she led Meera around, “I had a few dresses made for you before you arrived. If you don’t like them they’ll be refitted for someone else, if you do we’ll take them in for you – I’m sure they’re all too large. I also expect Greywater is run differently from Winterfell. You will not be expected to take on my duties, but I do expect you to assist me so when Robb inherits the North you will make a fine enough lady for the North. And we ought to take you to Maester Luwin to make sure you are well enough. Many couples don’t conceive quickly but if you do we want to lessen your chances of dying in childbed. Here we are!” the lady exclaimed when they reached a room populated with other women. “Now go behind that curtain, get undressed, and Larysse will take your measurements.” Meera did as she was told.

Meera did not particularly enjoy having her measurements taken and being made to try on dress after dress, testing the feel of different fabrics and having to decide on colors. She felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of clothes she was to have from now on. A maid was sent back to Meera’s room with the simple dress Meera had chosen to wear to dinner that night. It was still a little too big and Meera wanted to wear her own clothes but they were not suited for a feast, a feast with her betrothed, his family, and half of the Northern lords in attendance. She would revert back to her own preferred wardrobe after the wedding if she could.

From the seamstresses she was marched to the Maester’s turret and interrogated about her fertility. When did she have her first flowering? – two years ago. How did her mother die? A fever. She only had the one brother? Yes. Did she know of any miscarriages or stillbirths in her mother’s history? One miscarriage when she was young, just after Jojen. How many children did her mother’s mother have? Four. How did she die? Drowned. Was Meera’s moonblood painful? Only on the first day. How heavy was the flow? Rather heavy. Was it regular? Yes. She endured the questions and the examination before being pronounced perfectly healthy and they’d worry about her risks later.

Meera was then asked if her mother had been able to explain the wife’s duties. The maester asked her the question with such solemnity Meera nearly burst out laughing. She told them that her mother had explained what she could at the time and her aunt had spoken to Meera at length on the topic before Meera departed for Winterfell.

From the Maester’s turret she was taken back to her rooms and nearly commanded to bathe and change into her fine new dress after which someone would have to come and lead Meera to the great hall for the feast. The bathwater was hot and the chambermaid whose name was Saera only protested vaguely when Meera insisted on bathing herself. She enjoyed the time alone and had never needed anyone to scrub her back for her. She did end up requiring Saera’s assistance in lacing the bodice of her new gown, drying her hair, and arranging it in a style that Saera decided was acceptable for the occasion.

The great hall of Winterfell was crowded and loud already when Meera sat down between her father and brother. The dais was filled with visiting lords and ladies. Meera was relieved that it was too loud for them to try talking to her. The food was odd; dark, thick meats and strong ales. Meera stayed long enough to be polite but asked to be excused not long after the children were sent to bed. She felt hot and itchy in her new clothes and her head was aching, she wasn’t used to ale of that strength. Saera helped Meera out of her dress and her soft new slippers, untangled her hair and returned to the revelry in the great hall. Meera felt like she was being swallowed by the thick mattress and the furs that were piled over the bed but she liked the sensation. It felt safe and when she pulled them over her pounding head they muffled the sounds of music and talk that were drifting from the hall below.

*******************

The week between the Reeds’ arrival at Winterfell and the wedding was so packed with activity that Meera barely had a moment to breathe. When she wasn’t expected to weigh in on plans for her wedding she was made to help Lady Stark make decision regarding the running of the castle, most of which was related to the wedding anyway. They needed to find accommodations for all the visiting lords and their retinues. Winterfell guards were being sent into the Winter’s Town on patrols to keep the peace since the influx in visitors made fighting and crime more likely. The harvest was ongoing, food and taxes had to be collected.

When she wasn’t with Lady Stark the younger children took Meera in hand. Arya wanted to know all Meera knew about fighting with a spear and fishing and took to following Meera about the castle whenever Meera wasn’t occupied by her mother. Bran took it upon himself to guide Meera through Winterfell and teach her the secrets of the castle. “You’re small enough to go through all the secret passages,” he remarked once, “Most grown-ups are too big to fit in some of them.” He knew a great many secret passages as well as the halls and paths that Meera needed to learn. Baby Rickon was shy whenever Meera came near him but he was happy enough to play games with her whenever Bran and Arya decided that was what they were to do. Sometimes Jon Snow would join them for games at the childrens’ insistence.

He was still reticent but after some pestering he finally deigned to tell Meera about Robb. “He’ll treat you well my lady, I’m sure of it. But he does have his faults…” Jon looked around as if he feared being spied on before leaning in and telling her about some of Robb’s more shameful moments.

“You’re not such a bad sort after all,” Jon commented as he led her back toward the castle from the godswood.

Meera had to crane her neck to see his dour face, “You were expecting me to be awful?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I wasn’t sure what to expect, neither was Robb. We certainly weren’t expecting you to be like Sansa.”

“Like Sansa how?”

“Well, Sansa is enchanted with the Southron way of life and she can be very… demanding. Once a few years ago a singer came to Winterfell and when he was leaving Sansa threw a fit and begged father to _force_ the man to stay.”

“I take it she didn’t get her wish.”

“No, she cried for a week but she recovered. Anyway, I believe you and Robb will get on well enough. Just avoid Theon as much as you can.”

Meera thanked him for the warning though she did not need it. Theon Greyjoy had shown his colors and his tendencies well enough at the welcome feast and every time he’d seen her since. If there was anything to make her feel ill about the impending wedding and bedding it was the prospect of Theon Greyjoy’s pointed jokes and what he would say after he’d seen her in her nameday clothes.

*******************

Her wedding clothes were made up of green silk with black lizard-lions embroidered about the edges. Her slippers were of the same moss-green color and Meera’s toes felt cold already. Her hair had been pulled back into a complicated braid. Her father’s arm was comforting, steadying. Meera kept her eyes fixed ahead of her, ignoring that the godswood was filled with lords and ladies all come to see their next lord wed to the little crannog woman.

Robb’s smile was kind and he did not laugh when she stammered and had to repeat half of her words. His hands were warm and strong when he took her from her father and the cloak he wrapped around her was warm from his heat. It was all white with a great gray direwolf stitched onto the back, a poor substitute for the real wolves that were all lying about around the heart tree. Meera did notice that the watchers were all staying well away from the pack. When their vows and prayers were finished and Robb had helped Meera back to her feet he leaned in and lay a kiss on her lips. Meera had played at kissing before with the sons of lesser crannog lords, boys who had once been her marriage prospects. Robb was not so bad at it.

Winterfell’s great hall was full to bursting for the wedding feast. Meera had been given the place of honor beside her new husband, their banners were hanging behind them as well, to help their guests envision the joining of wolf and lizard-lion. At least they wouldn’t be allowed to watch the actual joining though Theon Greyjoy had asked rather loudly in the middle of the feast. “You know the guests are invited to watch my lady,” he’d shouted at her in his cups. The comment had earned him a glare from Lady Stark and Meera’s father.

Robb had taken it upon himself to approach his friend and remind him that while bawdy jests were expected and welcomed at a wedding feast his had still gone too far. “My lady wife seems frightened enough without your jokes.”

Theon waved his friend off though his jokes stayed within the expected bounds from then on. Theon was far from the only person making bawdy jokes though. Soon the hall was filled with guests shouting at Robb and Meera while a few men below began banging their cups on the tables calling for the bedding. Lady Stark decided the time had come to send the children off to bed. Meera startled when Robb grabbed her hand “We can call off the bedding if you wish it,” he said.

Meera’s mouth went dry, he _was_ handsome and thoughtful now. “I don’t believe our guests would appreciate it if we did.”

He snorted, “They’re not what matters tonight. If you want we’ll leave now. If we run fast enough they shan’t do anything about it.”

Meera liked the glimmer in his eye, “Let’s go.”

Robb knocked his chair over in his haste and Meera nearly tripped on her skirts but she was able to keep up with him as they raced past the gathered lords, ignoring the new shouts of “Catch them!” along with the laughter. Meera held tight to Robb’s hand and he led her through the halls and pathways to their bedchamber. They startled the maid who was just walking out of the room after preparing it. Robb shouted an apology at her as he swept Meera through the doorway. Meera grabbed onto a chest for support, clutching the stitch in her side and tried to catch her breath. Behind her Robb shut and bolted the door.

“Do you think we need to barricade it,” Meera joked, indicating the chest which she believed must be full of her new gowns, or perhaps it was full of Robb’s clothing.

He waved her off, clutching his own side. “It will only cause problems come morning. I doubt even the Umbers will come up here with an axe in hand.”

Robb started to fiddle with his belt and Meera reached up, unclasping the heavy white cloak which she set carefully over a chair. Undressing was awkward and in some ways Meera thought it might help to have other people doing the work for her. Robb kept glancing at her as she removed her shoes and stockings and worked her hair out of its braid. She was unable to unlace her gown without help though and just as she was about to ask Robb’s hands fell over hers, pushing them and her hair away so he could undo the knot. She could see him in the small mirror on the table, his bare chest and shoulders.

Meera shivered as her back was exposed to the cool air and she let out a small gasp when Robb slipped his hand into her dress, brushing his fingers against her back and sliding around to rest against her belly. He pressed her backward so she her head fell against his chest. “Are you – I mean do you want to do this?” Robb sounded almost shy though the hand in her dress was wandering upward. She was sure he could feel how hard her heart was pounding. Men were cheering and jeering outside but they were outside and did not matter.

She nodded her consent, “Yes, you’ll just have to finish helping me out of this gown.” He removed his hand and she slipped out of the dress, setting it as neatly as she could with the rest of her things though her hands shook. When she turned around Robb was there, looking at her. She liked his chest, and his broad shoulders, and the red hair that trailed down to his manhood. She did not like his manhood so much, she resisted the urge to grimace or giggle at the sight of it as her aunt had advised her. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen a man before, she’d seen them often enough and when she was younger she and Jojen had been bathed together. But she’d never seen a man when he was hard before, she looked at Robb’s face instead.

Slowly, he approached and led her to the bed where she lay down on her back. He crawled over her and Meera tried to slow her breathing. They started with slow, soft kisses. Meera took the opportunity to run her hands over his arms and back, memorizing the feel of his shoulders. She liked his shoulders and the feel of his skin against hers. Touching hands was one thing but his chest against her was another, every time they moved chills swept down her back.

He _was_ gentle with her, as gentle as he could be. Meera laughed at his fumbling but gasped when he found her, began pressing inside. The pleasure that swept through her in waves with his thrusts more than made up for the discomfort when he’d pressed his cock inside initially. There was still pounding on the door and the sound of men jesting and cheering drifted over to where they lay entwined, Robb working his cock in and out of her while she tried to think of what to do. He cursed loudly at the racket and Meera laughed, gasping for air “Mayhap we should have let them in. They could have given you instruction.”

Robb glared down at her for a moment and thrust back inside her harder than before, causing her to yelp. “Well neither of us knows what we’re doing – or at least you don’t _seem_ to know what you’re about.”

“I got it though,” he said before he closed his eyes and ducked his head nearer to hers. His breath was coming faster and he reached between them, trying to find the spot Theon had told him and Jon about in whispers. Meera hooked her arm about his neck and tried to find a clear thought, something other than the pleasure emanating from where Robb was touching her.

“I feel like I need another bath,” Meera admitted when they had nestled under the furs, still shaky from their lovemaking.

He laughed a little, “Aye, perhaps we can sneak to the godswood – once the crowd has left us alone. The hot springs are good for bathing in, it helps to keep me from getting too sore after a day of training.”

“We could try that,” Meera said. “You will have to wake me though.”

Robb nodded, “If I don’t fall asleep myself that is.”

They were both far too tired to move again but before Meera fell firmly into the grasp of sleep she had a moment to think that being wed to Robb Stark was far better than she had thought it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [theladymeera](https://theladymeera.tumblr.com/)


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